Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust
by everdancer
Summary: Carol hadn't known what to say to the poor girl – words of comfort didn't seem to stretch wide enough to fill this awful hole.  What if Quinn hadn't been lying, and Finn really was the father?  Fuinn. T to be safe. please read and review
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

_Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

**CHAPTER ONE**

"So, um, is two drawers going to be enough?" Finn asked, shoving his clothes around to make room for Quinn's.

"Sure." She replied from her seat on the bed. This room – this house – it was her home now. But it was so, so different than the house she'd grown up in. Finn's room was hardly more than a glorified closet. His wallpaper had _cowboys_ on it – well, the ones that weren't wood-paneled, anyways. Most of the furniture slumped, and constantly looked like it needed to be fixed. It was so different from the stark, clean lines that she was used to. The bright, modern, and yet classical designs that her mother had paid a whole team of people to create, brand new, for their home. This change was frightening, and yet oddly comfortable. It was so different from the world she knew – but it also felt warm and cozy, like a mother's hug after a long and stressful day. She could be herself; she didn't have to lie anymore. There were no lies left, and she reveled in that fact.

"Hey" Finn came to sit beside her, the mattress shifting as he wrapped his arms around her and brushed back a fallen strand of hair, "I know it's a little weird, but maybe this is for the best. Now I'll always be here for you, whenever you need me." Quinn nodded, not quite sure what to say, and relaxed into his arms. As soon as she let go of her strict calm she began to cry.

He let her cry, not quite sure what to say. There wasn't anything that could right this awful wrong, that could make her whole again. But he knew from watching his mother that, sometimes, girls just needed to cry. He hoped that she would fall asleep and escape into dreams, because they would comfort her in a way that he could not. They would lie to her, and she would believe them and be swept away in their magic.

An hour later, Caroline climbed the stairs for bed, finally done with the laundry, the dishwasher, and all of the other chores that wouldn't wait until tomorrow. As she passed her son's room she paused, not sure if she should check on him. She loved and trusted her son – but look where that had gotten them. Quinn hadn't been on the couch downstairs, and there wasn't a spare bedroom, which meant she must be with Finn. But then again, what more trouble could they get into? She hadn't known what to say to the poor girl – words of comfort didn't seem to stretch wide enough to fill this awful hole.

The door was ajar, and she peeked in. Finn was curled on his side, dangerously close to the edge of the bed as always – just like his father had slept. Beside him, Quinn faced the opposite direction, on top of the covers and still dressed.

Quietly, Caroline picked up Finn's cowboy blanket and spread it over the girl. She had never really _looked_ at Quinn before. She normally saw her in a cheerios uniform, her hair pulled into a tight pony that Caroline imagined created awful headaches. Normally she was laughing with Finn, doing homework at their kitchen counter, or chatting with some other cheerios while their boyfriends played pickup football in the yard. When they had dinner together she was quiet and courteous – always offering to help with the dishes, and seemingly interested in all of their family drama. But she always seemed on guard, never truly relaxed or comfortable. Now, her hair spread out on the pillow in loose, golden curls. She wore one of Finn's old McKinley shirts and a pair of bright sofie shorts. Her hand subconsciously rested on her stomach, where Caroline could see the beginnings of a bump.

Finn turned, and for a moment she froze, afraid that he was waking up, that he would accuse her of invading his privacy, although Finn really wasn't that kind of kid. But he didn't wake. He looked so young, so peaceful in his sleep.

She sighed, tiptoeing out of the room. There was so much to do, so much to figure out. Should she talk to the Fabrays – reach out to them? Did Quinn have siblings? Could they afford this? How? Did they have room for two more people? How would they tell the school, change Quinn's records, her driver's license?

There was no guide to being the parent of a teenage father – to taking in his pregnant girlfriend.

Tomorrow, they would deal with this. Tomorrow they would make the decisions and adjustments that were needed. Tomorrow was a headache for another day.

**A/N: **I don't know if I'll go farther, but I hope to. And I hope you liked it! Please review.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

_Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

**CHAPTER TWO**

Quinn watched as, across the hall and through a doorway, her boyfriend gently but dramatically threw a foam football too a little boy. The kid grinned a mile wide as he caught the ball and tossed it back, laughing when Finn made a big deal of the ball knocking the wind out of him. He turned his head for a moment, flashed her a smile, and the nerves that twisted her stomach momentarily melted away in a wave of calmness. Finn was here, Finn was here with her and smiling so everything must be okay.

She sighed gently twirling the desk chair she sat on, watching the identical doors of the pediatric in-patient hall blend together. Behind her, Mrs. Hudson bustled around, prepping a bag of neon-green chemo for the boy Finn was distracting. Carol worked here, and when the hospital had had an unexpected surge of new patients an hour ago, she had been the first sub they had called in. Finn, it turned out, spent a few hours every Sunday with the kids on the hall distracting them with coloring books, board games, and other toys he found in the playroom. Watching him turn a teddy bear into a puppet for a crying three-year-old, playing catch with the boy, and carefully cradling a sick baby, it was easy to see that Finn was a natural with kids. _How does he make it look so easy?_ She wondered, thinking of her own failed adventure running the cheerio's summer intensive for elementary schoolers. The kids had quickly tired of running routines and revolted, scattering to different hiding places in the football stands until Brittany tricked them out with a particularly cool areal trick.

When the memory faded she looked down to find her hand resting on the little bump, the chair still. She couldn't imagine being a mother. Forget the fact that she was only fifteen – she was awful with children! Babies cried when she picked them up and little kids thought she was boring. Adoption had seemed like the only reasonable idea until she'd seen Finn with kids. He was so natural with them, it seemed somehow unfair to deny him the chance to be a father.

And then there was Carol, and the long talk they had all had about their situation the day before. She wanted a grandchild so badly – Quinn could see she already loved little Drizzle – but on her nurses' salary she could barely afford to feed, clothe, and house herself and Finn, let alone Quinn and a baby. Family meant so much to her, she would be willing to do anything to help them keep Drizzle, but even if she and Finn quit their afterschool activities and got jobs, it would never be enough.

She sighed and scooched the chair forward until she was sitting at the desk, a computer in front of her. Lazily she floated from website to website, checking facebook and twitter. She had long ago abandoned her formspring account because of all the hatemail it attracted. Finally, she checked her e-mail to find a new message from, of all people, her older sister.

_To: Lucy Q. Fabray .org_

_From: Zoey Fabray-Huntsberger _

_Lucy,_

_I'm so sorry to hear about your situation. Logan and I feel awful about how mom and dad treated you, and were hoping to come down and visit you next weekend, if that would fit your schedule._

_Mom has asked me to let you know she has added money to your checking account for you, and she advises that you take as much of it out as soon as possible in case dad finds it. As long as he does not find it, she says, she will continue to add money, which is from your college savings. She hopes, as I do, that this will help you and Finn._

_I'm always here if you need to talk, Lucy, and I'm on your side. I have already sent dad a pretty nasty e-mail about how he treated you – don't tell me I shouldn't have because it's done, and I couldn't live with myself if I didn't._

_I hope you are doing well._

_Much Love,_

_Logan, Zoey, and Valerie_

"Finn!" Quinn cried, still staring incredulously at the note, "Finn!" He dropped the football he'd been playing with, rushing over immediately. He slid over the clear side of the desktop, his face wild with concern and worry.

"What is it? Is it the baby, Quinn? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, turning the computer monitor so that Finn could read it easily, "but you should read this."

When he finished reading Finn pulled his mother over to see the note as well, squeezing Quinn's hand as he waited for his mother's reaction. _This_, he thought, _could be the solution we've been searching for._ He knew money was tight for him and his mom – that had become quite clear during yesterday's talks – but the Fabrays were wealthy, as was Quinn's sister Zoey.

"That's wonderful" Carol whispered, looking a little pale, but happy.

**A/N: **again, I can't promise another chapter, but I think I will continue. I wrote several versions of the second chapter, knowing what I wanted but not where to start. I think I have a better idea and some free time coming up, so hopefully!

For anyone who watches Gilmore Girls – yes, I'm having Quinn's sister be married to Logan because I'm too lazy to make up my own characters (why do you think I write fanfiction?). But he won't be in this much and I wouldn't consider it a cross-over at all.

Quinns and her sister's e-mails are fake!


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

_Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

**CHAPTER THREE**

"Finn!" Quinn squealed, giving her boyfriend a playful slap. "I do not need a hickey right before my sister gets here. And anyways, we need to be doing homework."

Finn sighed, leaning back against the couch's arm. The two were tangled on the small couch, Quinn in his lap, his calves overlapping hers, his arms around her bare belly, and a textbook resting on her knees. He was supposed to be reading the book over her shoulder, but they rarely had moments alone like this, and she let him touch her stomach even less often, so he'd been more focused on her than the War of 1812.

It was rare for Quinn to let anyone see any more of her skin than was allowed by school dress codes. She pretended that this was because she was President of the Celibacy Club and Cheerio Captain, but really it was her own self-consciousness. If someone saw her naked, then they were all the more likely to see her imperfections and tease her for them. The "bump" as she liked to think of it, despite it's growing size, was like a flashing neon sign to tell everyone what she had done wrong in her life, a mistake they could base all future judgments of her on.

As she flipped the page Quinn heard the sound of a car in the driveway, and her mind immediately jumped to Zoey, her sister. "Where's your jacket?" she asked, pushing the book aside and sitting up.

"I left it in the car," Finn told her sheepishly. "Come on, your sister knows that you're pregnant. What's the big deal?" he asked, taking her hand and leading her to the front door. Quinn didn't want to follow, but she had no other choice. Today at Glee Club practice they had performed for a deaf school, and the costumes Mr. Shue had chosen were meant to show off the other girls' leaner bodies, and had highlighted what was wrong with Quinn's. The buttoned white shirt and crop top had done nothing for her, and she'd spent the school day in Finn's football jacket so that others wouldn't see. But all of this flew from her mind when she was her older sister.

"Lucy!" Zoey, cried, hugging her tight. She was the only one that had ignored Quinn's pleas to call her by her middle name, and it was oddly comforting to not have to live up to the high expectations that had seemed to come with the new name. Instead of thinking of her former self, when Zoey said it she felt like she didn't have to hide behind her cultivated persona. "I've missed you." She declared, holding her back at arm's length now. She eyed her up and down before telling Quinn, eyes filled with love and honesty, "you look good, sis."

Quinn blushed. "I've missed you too, Zo."

"And who is this handsome man?" she asked, taking in Finn's tall frame.

"I'm Finn," he said, holding out a hand to shake.

"We're practically family," she chastised jokingly before giving him a quick hug. "That baby's going to be the prettiest little girl ever between the two of you." She said, smiling. Behind her Logan, her husband, appeared, with a two-year-old toddler clinging to him.

"So, not that I don't appreciate a visit from my best big sis-"

"Try _only_ sister" Zoey corrected with a roll of her eyes.

"As I was saying." Quinn said, leading them inside, "but why are you here?"

"Isn't caring about you enough of a reason?"

"Zo, I haven't seen you since you graduated college three years ago. You haven't come within a hundred miles of Lima in even longer."

"Fine," she huffed, slumping into an easy chair, "We were in town – Mr. Huntzberger" she said, a trace of disgust in her voice for Logan's workaholic father, "just bought a small paper in Cincinnati. Logan and I will be living in the city for the next couple of months at least. _And_, you _are_ my sister, I _do_ care about you, and you _decided_ to get yourself knocked up at fifteen. I wanted to make sure that you're doing okay, and make sure you know all the options that are open to you."

"Options? Like what?" Finn asked.

"Well, like moving in with me."

Quinn's mind began to whirl with that idea. Live with her out spoken, stubborn sister? She'd love to be closer to family, to be able to feel comfortable, to be able to create a new identity for herself in a new city. Logan and Zoey moved one or two times a year, buying and building up small newspapers across the country for his father. She'd always wanted to travel, to see the country and the world, but could they do that with a baby? And what would Finn do – his mother meant everything to him.

She watched Finn carefully. He was such an open book, she could watch every emotion scroll across his face. He seemed tentative, guarded.

"It's just something to consider," Zoey dismissed, "we can talk about it in detail later."

Quinn sighed in relief – crisis averted, at least for now.

**A/N: **Trivia Question! What actor was a guest star in both _Glee_ and _Gilmore Girls_. Hint: both characters are similar in personality and lifestyle. They've both been mentioned in this story.


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

_Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Life seemed to settle into a new normal after the visit from Quinn's sister. Zoey drove up every Friday night, stayed over at a nearby hotel, and left after lunch the next day. Every few weeks she would bring Logan or her daughter Valerie with her. She had yet to bring up her idea of Finn and Quinn moving in with her again, but Quinn knew it was only a matter of _when,_ not _if, _she would bring it up. Still, things had been relatively calm until one day she came home to a fight between Finn and his mother.

"This is _dad's_ chair," Finn begged, "this is the only picture of the two of us, it's the only picture there'll ever be of the two of us, and he's sitting in this chair."

Quinn stopped herself at the front door, knowing that the moment she entered the house they would see her, and she didn't want to interrupt.

"It's a chair, honey, it's not him." Carol comforted.

"What's going on with you? Selling all our old stuff. You've got new clothes, a new hair cut?"

"I'm seeing someone, Finn." Carol confided. "I think I'm in love."

"Who is it? I – do I know him?"

"It's your friend Kurt's father – Burt Hummel." The milkshake and McDonald's bag fell from Quinn's hands in shock. Finn's mom was dating Kurt's dad? Kurt – new direction's gay diva, who she knew for a fact had a crush on her boyfriend. Well, of course, Finn was straight, there was no way Kurt could be a real threat, or so she'd thought. But Finn was simple-minded and naïve; if anyone could make Finn doubt, even for a moment, which team he played for, it would be that tiny, conniving diva.

Finn turned his head at the sound of cardboard and paper hitting concrete. He turned his back to Carol, picked up the bag and drink – neither of which had, miraculously, spilled – and led Quinn down the sidewalk to walk along their street.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Quinn knew that Finn wasn't going to talk without some coaxing. It was rare that Finn's enormous mouth could be shocked into silence. The last time, in fact, had been when she'd told him they were pregnant. At the time, she'd been too busy going through her own internal hell to help him find words, but now she could.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, handing Finn a couple of greasy fries as a peace offering.

"I – I can't believe she'd betray me like that, you know? She _knows_ about Kurt's crush. She knows how much he's been bugging me this year, how he doesn't let up, not even with our situation. I feel like our parents dating is one of his schemes, and I can't believe that she would fall for that so easily."

"Oh, it's definitely one of Kurt's schemes." Quinn agreed.

It was a few more minutes before Finn spoke again, but finally he said, "but she does look really, really happy. And she wouldn't be throwing away my dad's old stuff if Burt didn't really mean something to her."

"See, that's what I love about you." Quinn told him, looking up into his eyes as he wrapped a protective arm around her against the winter wind. "Even when you're mad, you still put her first. When I'm angry I just turn into this self-destructive bitch who only cares about her own good."

"You know that's not true." He corrected, kissing her on the lips, feeling the heat of their bodies against the bitter, snowy wind. They walked back to the house in silence, Quinn hugging herself close against Finn's muscled chest for warmth and strength – it was no joke negotiating snow in heels when she was already off balance from the pregnancy.

"Quinn," he said, startling her a little as they walked up their driveway, "I think we should move in with your sister."

"Wh-what?" she asked, not moving. His suggestion was a shock to her.

"I don't want to be here if she's going to be throwing out my dad's things. I don't want to share a room with Kurt and take all the crap for it at school, too. And," he said, turning to face her, to look her in the eyes "most importantly, I think we need to focus on _us_ before the baby comes." He pressed his hand gently against the offending bump as Quinn struggled for words.

"I- but– Finn, I thought I said we're giving her up for adoption." He looked away.

"No, Quinn. _You_ said that. I never agreed to it."

"But I can't be a mother, Finn. If we raise this baby, we'll never get out of Lima. We'll never go to college and get good jobs and see the world." She looked down as she said it, watching her feet nudge the cold slushy snow instead of looking him in the eye. She knew her words hurt him, she knew that he wanted more than anything to be a father, but she wasn't ready to give all that up for a baby.

"So what? What's so bad about Lima? We have friends here to support us – there are people here who care about us, Quinn. That whole damn Glee club supports us, even when we're not getting along." A blush crawled up Quinn's cheeks at the mention of Glee; she knew that they worried about her, that they went out of their way to help her. But she couldn't help but hate them – hate them because they weren't the Cheerios she longed to be a part of, that she had worked so hard for.

"Look," she said, pushing past him to get to her car, "I'm not going to talk about this with you right now."

Finn let out a long sigh, watching the cool white air puff out as she drove away. Kicking at the snow, he made his way into the house, hoping that his mother was in the basement or her room so that he wouldn't have to face her.

**A/N: **So, opinions on them moving in with Zoey? I'm trying to write longer, better chapters from now on.


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

_Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Quinn slumped against the wall of the booth, exhausted from a day of anger and work. She had been fighting with Finn for a whole twenty-four hours now, and the bitterness was starting to wear on her. At six months along she was dramatically pregnant – forget spending time finding clothes that would hide her growing belly, she was having trouble just getting through the day without getting bumped and jostled. Leaning down to pick up a dropped pencil had become a chore, and Glee was taxing on her worn-down body. Without Finn to lean on and confide in she found herself more exhausted than usual as they sat in Breadsticks waiting for the Hummels to arrive.

Across the room the door chimed and Quinn didn't have to look up to recognize Kurt's voice, almost as high as her own, fussing over the lapels of his coat, which had blown up in the wind.

"Hi, Carol." Burt greeted her warmly, pulling up a chair to the head of the table as Kurt scooted in beside Quinn. Despite his anger at his mother, Finn had chosen to sit with her rather than the unwilling mother of his child.

Quinn eyed the father and son; they had the same round face, unsure smile, and bright blue eyes, but that was wear the similarities stopped. Where Burt was strongly built and seemed comfortable in his own skin, Kurt was small and overly choreographed – as if he had carefully practiced each movement, which, Quinn thought to herself, he probably had.

"You look utterly exhausted," Kurt murmured, taking her hand in his as the adults exchanged a quick kiss. She nodded briefly as Kurt looked at Finn carefully, then back at Quinn. "Would you mind if Quinn and I talked privately, for a moment?" Kurt asked the table at large, pulling Quinn out of the booth before anyone could object, and leading her towards a bench by the restrooms. "Okay, spill."

She eyed him as if she were checking his sincerity. He took her hand again.

"Finn and his mom had a fight, and then he and I fought." She confided, her words coming in a rush as if she had been waiting for permission to tell someone about this. "He wants to move in with my sister, and he wants to keep the baby." She paused before continuing, tears welling in her eyes, "but I can't take care of a baby, Kurt! I can barely take care of myself these days, but he's such a natural dad." And she told him all about their trips to the hospital and watching Finn with the children. She told him about her sister's offer and how Finn was using it as away to escape fighting with his mother. "…and I can't keep living like this – without support, without someone to talk to. It's too much, Kurt, it really is." She was sobbing now, her face red.

"I wouldn't be too worried about your relationship with Finn," Kurt advised, lacing his fingers with hers and squeezing her hand, "as much as it pains me to say it – and it does – he loves you, Quinn. Family is the most important thing to him. I could see the way he was looking at you today – he's mad, but he misses you more. I don't think it'll be much longer until he breaks." He tried to hand her a tissue, and when she refused it, wiped her tears away himself. "As for your sister and the baby, you still have months to decide that. But have you ever considered letting Finn raise her alone? That way he can be a father, and you can move on."

Quinn sniffled, wiping away the last tears, "I hadn't thought of that."

When they returned to the table a few minutes later Finn was talking animatedly with Burt about a recent basketball game, Carol smiling quietly to herself as she watched her son bond with her boyfriend.

"Do you have any plans this weekend?" Burt asked, "we could watch the game together."

"I wish," Finn sighed, "but I have a huge Spanish project, and we were planning on cleaning out the basement this weekend."

"I could help with that if you wanted," Burt offered, "we'll watch the game some other time."

"That'd be great!"

Later that night, on the living room couch, Quinn tossed and turned. She couldn't find a comfortable position on the lumpy piece of furniture and was quickly getting frustrated at the situation when she heard heavy footfalls heading her way, muffled a bit by the soft carpet.

"Hey," Finn whispered, kneeling in front of her and brushing back her hair with a warm hand. "I'm sorry I sprung that on you. I – I was just angry at my mom, and I took it out on you, and that's not right." Quinn nodded and took his hand big hand in her small one, guiding it down until it rested on the underside of her belly. "Wha-" Finn began, but she shushed him. A moment later he felt a swift, small kick against his hand and gasped before pressing his other hand against her stomach. For a few long moments they sat there, perfectly still, feeling the evidence of the life they had created together, from a time when they had had so much love between them that it had created a whole other person.

In that moment she couldn't imagine being anyone else. In her mind she could see, crystal-clear, a future with just herself, Finn, and little Drizzle. It was a future where they were so cocooned in their own love for each other that nothing else could touch them, nothing could hurt them. She couldn't imagine giving up her daughter – not after all she had lost, all she had given, all she had done just to carry her for these past few months.

**A/N: **I'm doing NaNoWriMo next month – so there might not be updates for a while. Sorry!


	6. Chapter 6

I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

_Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

**CHAPTER SIX**

"Isn't this just darling?" Kurt gushed, brandishing a baby-sized sailor suit.

"The baby's a girl," Quinn reminded him with a roll of her eyes. After deciding that Kurt and Quinn would be of no use in the efforts to remodel the basement, Carol, Burt, and Finn had sent them to the mall for maternity clothes with some of Quinn's mothers' money. Half an hour in, the shopping trip had switched to baby clothes, which were impossibly tiny and huge at the same time. It was impossible for Quinn to imagine a baby as small as some of these clothes, and at the same time impossible to imagine having to give birth to something that large. Just the thought made her queasy.

Kurt frowned and returned the ensemble before switching over to sections where pink was the predominant color, rather than baby blue.

"So I take it that you decided to keep her?" Kurt asked casually as he flipped through floral onesies. After a moment of silence he looked up – Quinn was biting her lip, staring at the pink gingham dress in her hand as though she wasn't really seeing it.

"I-I-um" she stuttered, clearly taken aback by the question. Kurt sighed. Taking the dress from her, he returned it to the rack and led her out of the store. He sat her at a table for two a few feet away and returned moments later with a cinnamon sugar pretzel. After taking his own seat he tore off a piece of the doughy pretzel and handed it to Quinn. He waited patiently as she nibbled, clearly deep in thought.

"Sometimes," she began, still sounding a bit far away, "I can see us together. We're happy and we love each other and it's beautiful. Everything's perfect. And I want that, I really do, but it isn't reality." Her eyes darkened, "Statistically, the odds are against us. We'll fight, we'll grow apart, I won't go to college and I'll blame Finn and the baby for the life I didn't get to have. People will judge us. My father will never forgive me, and I'll slowly lose contact with all of my relatives. I won't travel the world like I've always wanted to. We'll be Lima losers forever." She shook her head, "it's my worst nightmare, Kurt."

"Can I be blunt?" Quinn didn't respond, but Kurt didn't wait for her to. "You need to give up this idea of the 'perfect' life, Quinn. Whether you keep this baby or not, you can't realistically expect everything to go as you've planned it in your head. No amount of Prom Queen Crowns and Honors Diplomas will change the fact that you got pregnant at fifteen. You have to stop trying to hide all these things that you don't like about yourself, and instead embrace them as a part of you."

"But, I – what if that's too hard?" she asked quietly, not daring to meet his eyes. "What if I don't like that person?"

"You're a beautiful girl, Quinn. But you need to realize that being beautiful only matters if you're beautiful through and through – painting a pretty picture for your teachers and peers to see isn't worth shit, because you lose who you are in the process." He sighed, "It'll take some time, but I believe you'll learn to love yourself for who you truly are, and not just who you want other people to think you are. And being with Finn, having this baby, it'll all help."

"What do you mean?"

"This baby – it's a fresh start. Having her, I think, will force you to change a bit, and I think that will help. And Finn is so honest in who he is. If you stop fighting it, I'm sure he'll help you understand the beauty in who you really are, and not who you pretend to be."

"But how would having a baby help me figure out who I am? Won't it change who I am?"

Kurt sighed. "I think the idea is that you're too tired from taking care of the baby to lie to yourself anymore. And yes, you'll change, and when that happens you can choose to be honest with yourself, rather than to lie."

Quinn twisted a bit of pretzel in her hands. Did she want to change? She had worked too hard creating this perfect ideal to give up now, hadn't she? And yet, even with all her work the picture-perfect image was crumbling around her. She had worked so hard only to fall farther down on the totem poll then she'd even been in middle school. Maybe Kurt was on to something.

"Mr. Hummel, can I ask you something?" Finn asked as he held two crib pieces together. His mother had just disappeared upstairs to fold a newly dried basket of laundry.

"Call me Burt, and sure."

"Okay. Burt. How did you know that you were ready to be a father?"

Burt stopped his construction work and looked up, his intense, tired eyes meeting Finn's innocent ones. "I didn't." He explained, "Everyone thinks that parenthood is just this phase of your life – that one day you're too immature, and the next you're ready for it, but that's not true. The truth is you'll never really be ready; there will always be something you're not prepared for, moments that test what you believe. For me, it was Kurt's mother dying, and Kurt coming out of the closet. I didn't know what the hell I was doing – I still don't – but every day I try to do right by my son, to teach him how to be a good person. I never lie to him. I try to give the best advice that I can, and to connect with him on at least some level. I figure, if I do my job right, Kurt'll grow up to be a good guy. So far, I don't think I've messed him up too badly."

"So that's it? You just have to try to be the best dad you can, and hope it's enough?"

Burt chuckled at the stricken look on Finn's face. "Yup, that's it. But don't worry – Me and Kurt and your mom, we're all going to be here to help you and Quinn. You won't be going it alone until you're ready to." Finn relaxed upon hearing that; it was good to know that someone had his back, that he didn't have to figure it all out on his own. But at the same time, something Burt had said was troubling him – Burt planned on being here to help him and Quinn raise the baby, which meant that he must have some serious intentions with his mother.

"Do you want to marry my mom?" Finn asked suspiciously.

"I won't lie to you – I have been thinking about it. I really like your mom, Finn. She has a good heart and a good sense of humor. I could definitely see myself marrying her – I love her, and I want to be close to her. But I haven't really made up my mind yet about marriage."

"Look what we got!" Kurt trilled, rushing down the basement steps and ruining the moment between Finn and Burt. He held out a couple of bursting shopping bags for his father to see.

"Did you leave any clothes left for other pregnant women?" Burt asked, cracking a smile as Quinn reached the landing beside Kurt.

"You guys got a lot done," she said in awe, looking around the room. The weekend before Finn and Carol had boxed up Finn's father's things and brought them to a storage unit so that the basement could be transformed into a larger bedroom for Quinn, Finn, and eventually, the baby. When she'd left Finn, Burt, and Carol had just begun painting the walls. Now they were drying. Finn and Burt were putting together Finn's old crib, and a few random pieces of furniture were scattered across the space.

"You really shouldn't be down here." Burt warned her as she inspected a worn dresser.

"Is it supposed to be a surprise?" She asked, "because I was the one who picked the paint color."

"Paint fumes are dangerous for pregnant women," Burt explained, "didn't you guys know that?"

"No-what?" Finn asked, sounding nervous and rushed, "Quinn, get upstairs now." They all filed upstairs to talk more, settling in the family room.

"Being down there for a second, that's fine." Burt explained, trying to calm Finn down, "but you probably shouldn't move down there until the paint stops smelling so strongly." Finn breathed a sigh of relief. "But you two really didn't know that? Haven't you been reading pregnancy books? Going to classes? Anything?" They shook their heads. "Here," Burt said, plucking a thick, dusty volume off of a high shelf on the book case. "What to Expect When You're Expecting – that's pretty much the Bible for pregnancy.

Quinn took the book from him, flipping through the pages. What else didn't they know? What else were they doing wrong? She stayed up late reading that night, her stomach unknotting a little bit with each page that didn't reveal some fatal mistake they could have made.

**A/N: **I need a stoyline…


	7. Chapter 7

I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

_Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Quinn absently flipped through the pages of _What to Expect When You're Expecting_. It had been a week since the basement had been cleared and painted as a room for her and Finn, and they had just moved down the morning before. The room was painted alternating shades of blue, each wall a different color. It was curved in a large L shape. Her and Finn's "room" was the short end, half of which was taken up by the full mattress that Mr. Schue had given them – it was the one he couldn't return from when they had shot the commercial. Along one short wall was a large worn dresser from Carol's childhood and a matching bureau. Both had been given a fresh coat of white paint to cover the daisy chains that had originally covered them and been chipped away over the years.

In the corner, across from their room, was the baby's area. The crib was put together, but bare. Next to it was the changing table, still in its box, and a worn cardboard box of Finn's baby things that were either too precious or too worn for Carol to have donated or lent out over the years. A couple of toys stood by it, too large to fit into boxes and too old for them to be of any use for the first months of the baby's life. There were also two newer boxes, still unopened, labeled with her own name. Her mother had dropped them off a few weeks ago while she was at school with a note saying that they were probably more useful for Quinn and Finn rather than gathering dust in the Fabray's basement, and that she was afraid Russell would throw them out. Quinn hadn't yet gathered the courage to sort through the boxes, although she had looked through them when she had first found out she was pregnant. One would be filled to the brim with soft pink, purple, yellow, and white things; blankets, stuffed animals, crib liners, bibs, and clothing. The other held her baby ablums; not the scrapbook style ones that her mother had kept on display, but a set of books that contained every picture that had been snapped of her up until she had been kicked out. Beneath that was a collection of bottles, pacifiers, baby shoes, and toys with hard surfaces. Between the boxes and the collection of Kurt's old things that he and Burt had promised to bring over when they came for Friday night dinner, she was sure that they had almost everything they needed for the baby. It was lucky, she thought, that Carol, Judith, and Burt were either too sentimental to throw out the baby stuff, or too lazy.

In the long part of the room was a collection of old furniture; Finn's dad's chair along with all the other furniture Carol had tried to throw out, a small table and some folding chairs that had been collecting dust in Burt's shop, a counter-height book shelf that they had found in the basement. On top of the bookshelf Finn had perched a mini-fridge, and Carol had added a microwave that hardly worked anymore. It wasn't much, and for three people it could be downright cramped, but it was almost like a small apartment for them. Almost, Quinn thought as the baby kicked, except that it was missing a bathroom. With a soft sigh she replaced her bookmark and set the book down as the baby sent a roll of kicks into her bladder. As she made her slow way upstairs and to the restroom, she thought about how there seemed to be no options left in her life.

It wasn't that she didn't like or want the path she seemed to be on; what bothered Quinn was that it didn't feel like she had a _choice_ about anything anymore. If she didn't keep the baby Finn would be devastated, losing her reputation and being disowned by her father would have been for nothing. It was what everyone expected of her, and she had never been good at going against what people expected of her. And after all this work had gone into the basement, she would feel like ungrateful brat if she moved out to be with her sister. And besides, living with Zoey might provide more freedom, but they had never been particularly good about sharing close quarters as kids, and she trusted Burt and Carol to teach her how to be a parent much more than she trusted Zoey or Logan.

She and Finn hadn't talked much about the future, but she guessed that college was no longer in the cards. Her mom had finally pulled all of the money out of her college account and set it up so that they could access it, but Quinn had the sinking feeling that they would need the money for something else, that Finn would have to get a job when they graduated and she would spend all day at home with the baby. They needed to get their own place, to be able to support themselves and prove to the world that they could do this, even if it meant forgoing college for a little while.

Even in her own body, she felt trapped. Every decision about things going in and out of her body was in the baby's control – from weird cravings to getting up three times a night to pee. She couldn't move the way she used to – every action from simply standing up to grabbing a pencil that had fallen to the floor took careful calculations and an abnormal amount of energy.

She _liked_ her life, she really did. She liked being a part of a family made of equals, rather than one where she was little more than a trophy to show off; someone to be seen, bragged about, but not heard, let alone actually listened to. As much as she hated to admit it, she loved the Glee club, and it was more than just singing and dancing. On the Cheerios she had been, ultimately, on her own. Santana had constantly been breathing down her neck for the position of Head Cheerio; Sue had been issuing weekly threats to be better or be kicked off the squad. But in Glee everyone supported each other. No matter whatever crazy drama was going on, and it was always something, deep down they always had each other's backs. She even liked being pregnant, sometimes. She loved the quiet moments when Finn was spooned around her, both of their hands spread wide over her stomach as the baby danced out a series of kicks. She really did enjoy the way her life was turning out – but it seemed like an endless rollercoaster where she could only just make out the next hill or trick. Yes, it was fun in the moment, but in the end all she really wanted was to get off and stand on her own two feet.

**A/N: **I finally figured out a vague sort of storyline. This chapter was to get everything back on track :)


	8. Chapter 8

I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

_Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

The bell rang out as Mr. Shuester finished writing the homework assignment on his whiteboard. "And remember the cultural essays due next Wednesday," he finished as students scrambled for the exits. Quinn too a deep breath. She had been dreading this moment all of class, her eyes hardly leaving the ticking clock at the front of the room, and now she was out of time.

"Here," Finn said, shrugging her bag over his shoulder before offering her his hand. He didn't know what she was about to do – she didn't have the heart to tell him. She grabbed his wrist and he took hers, supporting her as she stood and took a moment to find her center of gravity.

Her back ached and she rubbed it subconsciously. Yesterday's Glee practice had been brutal, cranking her now constant soreness up a couple of notches.

"I need to talk to Mr. Schue," Quinn said, moving to grab her bag from it's place on Finn's shoulder.

"I'll wait for you," he said, shrugging his shoulder backwards so that the bag was out of her reach. Ever since they had found the pregnancy books he had hardly let her lift a finger.

"No, I want to talk to him alone," she insisted, her voice low and quiet.

"I'll drop this in your next class," he said, heading towards the classroom's backdoor while she walked towards the desk at the front.

"Miss Fabray," Mr. Schuester said, looking up from the papers he was hastily grading, "what can I help you with?"

"I have to quit Glee club." She said quietly, watching as his eyes fell down to her stomach. She sighed, cradling it with her arms. His eyes moved back to her face. "It's just too hard right now."

"I can make sure you have easier choreography," he offered, "just let me know what's too hard and we'll accommodate-"

"No," she cut him off, her voice soft, "I mean, I just don't think it's going to work. I don't have the balance or energy for any of it, and I really have to focus on my schoolwork." Mr. Shuester took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.

"If your sure, Quinn."

"I'm sure." She said, heading for the door.

"You're always welcome to come visit," he said as she pushed open the classroom door, getting pulled into the ebb and flow of the hallway almost the second she stepped into it.

_Did I disappoint you, or leave a bad taste in your mouth? You act like you never had love, and you want me to go without._

Quinn heard her boyfriend's voice echo from the auditorium, bouncing off the hallway tiles as she walked to her locker. The school day had ended more than an hour ago, but she had stayed late to work on an English assignment that would make up for the time she would miss after having the baby. Earlier that week she had had a meeting with Ms. Pillsbury and Carol, who was acting as her guardian now, to work out how she could finish the year. They had decided that it would be better for her to stay home once the baby was born, and try to work out arrangements with her teachers where she could do extra work now, or continue to do assignments from home, so that she would graduate on time.

His voice drew her. She hated missing Glee practice. She knew that she had made the right choice, but she missed seeing her friends – they were the only people who really looked past the bump these days. Finn and Kurt would talk about all the crazy things she was missing – Jesse missing an entire week to go on spring break with Carmel High, Rachel's insane music video with Puck and Jesse. And, if she was being honest, she hated the thought of Rachel being around Finn without her to watch them. Yes, she trusted Finn – but not Rachel. Never Rachel – not even what she had a boyfriend.

She slipped into a seat in the back of the auditorium. The whole club was onstage, dressed in jean t-shirts against a large backdrop of changing inspirational pictures.

_Well it's too late tonight, to drag the past out into the light._ Rachel and Finn sang to each other, and the air between them was electric. She knew that it was just acting; she told herself that it was just acting. Finn cared too much about everyone, he could have chemistry with a damn rock, and everyone knew that Rachel liked Finn – even with Jesse here. Their chemistry was hardly a surprise, but it still made her heart feel dark and icy, jealousy rushing through her veins.

Anyone could see that the choreography was a bit off, a bit awkward. With her gone the club's once even gender distribution was off and Artie was partner-less. They were just at the minimum twelve required to compete.

As she watched her old Gleemates sing about love her hands came to rest on top of the mountain of her stomach. She loved this baby, but she also loved Glee being a part of Glee Club. Quitting for the sake of her sanity and the health of both her and the baby had been a relatively simple decision – not easy, she had hated every minute of it, but the answer had always been obvious. But what about all the other things that she could have to give up the future? Could it all really be worth it for this one baby? Giving up a real college experience, her title as head Cheerio. The biggest thing that she lost in the trade off was the respect of everyone from total strangers to her own father.

All that she had ever had, all that she had ever wanted, was to demand respect. She had achieved it with her father's newfound wealth in middle school, with being inducted as President of the Celibacy club and with hours upon hours of blood, sweat, and tears that lay behind being crowned the Head Cheerleader. She earned respect by bringing home all A's, dating the Captain of the Football team, and putting others down. She had had to become mean and, truth be told, extremely shallow, but the end had always justified the means.

But now? Now everyone saw the belly first, her father's disowning her second, the lost titles third, and the person that lay behind all of it last. From Lima Bean barristas to her teachers, students who used to fear her to fellow patients at her ob/gyn office, all she saw was disgust and pity, and both feelings curled inward into a twisting darkness in the pit of her stomach. Even Finn had noticed that she didn't walk as tall nowadays, that her eyes spent more time looking at her belly – since she could no longer see the damn floor – than ahead of her. She knew that he shrugged it off, that he believed that when the baby came she would realize the goodness in her sacrifices, that the life they had created together would fill in all of the emptiness that had taken over their lives.

_One life, but we're not the same. We get to carry each other, carry each other. One, one, one, one._ As the music faded out to just Finn and Rachel the rest of the club gathered around the two, lifting their arms up in some mix of power and hope that Mr. Shuester always seemed to be incredibly skilled at putting into his numbers. Mr. Shuester stood from his seat in the exact middle of the auditorium, clapping as every member of the club grinned and started to break off into their own conversations. Quinn felt a little disappointed, her chest feeling like it caved inward with the feeling. Despite how she'd treated them, some small part of her had expected them to run off stage to hug and great her. Now, more than ever, she wanted to feel accepted, not just needed but _wanted_ and loved. Mr. Shuester walked forward towards the stage, not noticing her as he shouted out corrections to the students. Finn jumped off stage, heading in her direction.

"Hey!" he shouted as she turned to leave, hoping to slip out unnoticed. But that, of course, was outside her boyfriend's realm of comprehension. "Hey, how was English?" his hand held her elbow, strong but not forceful.

"Fine," she mumbled.

"You should come see everyone," Finn said, "they miss you." Quinn glanced at the club, and immediately saw pairs of eyes flicker away, turning their attention on Mr. Shuester as they tried to pretend they hadn't been spying. She looked into Finn's earnest eyes. Whatever she said, he wouldn't give in, so it was better to just tough it out.

"Yeah, okay." She mumbled, following him down the slow risers of the auditorium towards the stage. As she climbed the stairs the club drew quiet, watching her. The first to run up were Brittany and Santana, catching her in a tight hug and immediately beginning to babble about some cheerio drama that she hadn't known existed. Rachel caught her in an embrace next, then Kurt. The rest of the club hung back, not sure how to treat their once tormentor turned pitiable human being.

"Just couldn't stay away, could you?" Mr. Shuester joked, patting her shoulder lightly.

"I just couldn't stay away," she explained, "I mean, I have to know what you guys are planning for Regionals!" Suddenly chatter surrounded her. By the time they finished talking after school club hours were over. Quinn walked to her car, Finn's arm holding her close, Kurt's hand in hers, swinging in a childish but still fun way. She couldn't remember the last time she had worn such a large grin.

**A/N: **A chapter? It must be a Christmas miracle! Happy Holidays everyone!


	9. Chapter 9

I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

_Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

**CHAPTER NINE**

"I can't believe it. We're really here." Mr. Shuester said, his voice little more than an awed whisper. "We really made it to _regionals_." Quinn grinned, skimming her hands over the mound of her belly. She couldn't believe it either – she was proud of the little Glee club that could. She was proud that they had survived all of the drama and stresses of the past year to get to this point – she just wished that she could be on stage with them, rather than sitting here in the audience. But, doctor's orders were doctor's orders. She had finished up her classes that past Friday, and her due date was just a few days away, right in the middle of Spring Break, which started today. Finn had been so excited that he hardly gotten any sleep, bouncing from sheer excitement to worry to feeling guilty that she couldn't perform today. But, as she kept reminding him, him not performing would only hurt the club – it wouldn't make her somehow able to be onstage. Even though Mr. Shuester had offered, she just couldn't move like she used to.

"..McKinley High's New Directions!" the announcer blared as the opening notes rang out.

_Highway run into the midnight sun._ Finn's voice rang out, rough and soothing as he started down his aisle. Suddenly Quinn's hand was being squeezed by Mrs. Hudson, who was grinning a mile wide at the sight of her only son. While Quinn was proud of her boyfriend, her chest still had that painfully lonely feeling as she watched him sing to Rachel, pledging they'd be faithful for always. She had to wonder – if she and Finn had never dated, would he have dated Rachel? Were they meant for each other? It didn't matter – she knew it didn't. She had him forever now, this baby had cemented their love and commitment better than any promise or wedding ring could have. He was hers forever – but some small part of her questioned, would he hate her for that, someday? Or did he already, since he couldn't break up with her for the large-nosed thesbian. She felt like she was tying him down – as if, were it not for her, he had this great life ahead of him, and she was taking that glorious opportunity away – the opportunities, the adventures that she so desperately wanted. How could she deny him that?

She would be forever tied to their daughter. Even if she gave the baby up for adoption, she would forever have the scars, both physical and emotional, that would tell the story well enough for her. No, she was tied down, her path dramatically altered forever now. But Finn, he shone with so much light, so much potential. She felt selfish – as though she was denying the world the chance to know him and denying him a chance to shine.

The curtains swung closed on New Directions and she started to tear up. Mrs. Hudson looked in her bag for a tissue, but she'd forgotten them – it wasn't cold season. As people settled in for the third group the two scurried out of the auditorium towards the bathroom in search of tissues.

"You sit here," Carol offered, helping lower her onto a bench in the lobby, "I'll grab some tissues and be right back." Quinn nodded, clutching herself. She couldn't tell Mrs. Hudson what had made her cry, but there wasn't exactly anyone else for her to talk to either. She wanted to run away, to take herself out of the equation because clearly she had been the one to mess everything up. Without her, everything could go back to normal. Her parents were already normal again. Finn could date Rachel and hey, maybe they'd even make a cute couple. Who knew? Carol and Burt could get married without the strain of teenage parents under their roof. Santana would be head Cheerio like she had always wanted anyways. It was the perfect plane – the only promise was that she could hardly waddle to her car, let alone fit in the driver's seat. And driving was completely out of the question. No, she had realized all of this too late and now everyone would have to bear the consequences.

A pair of bright heels came into her view. She looked up, following the yellow pencil skirt, the matching sweater and gaudy heirloom necklace. Her mother was standing over her, and for a moment Quinn thought she was hallucinating, or seeing a ghost or something that would explain this. The ghost or whatever she was handed Quinn a lacy handkerchief and rubbed her back lightly. Could ghosts touch you? Could you feel them?

"You guys were wonderful," she said, her voice brimming with emotion as she sat behind Quinn, her fingers still massaging. "But I wish I could've heard you," She didn't know what to say, so she just let her mother fill up the silence with rushed, quiet words, a desperate sort of pleading in her voice that Quinn had only heard one other time – when her mom had begged her father not to make them go while Finn and Quinn had been hastily packing. "I'm so sorry I missed the other times that you performed. Were there a lot? I left your father." Her mother's voice was suddenly deeper, steadier, closer to the tone she had grown up with. "Well, I, kicked him out actually. He was having an affair with some tattooed freak." There was a long pause as Quinn soaked in the information. She hated her father, but still, he had always been a man to stick by his morals. The idea that he was a fake, that maybe she had forced him into this somehow with the stress of a pregnant daughter, it numbed her brain. She couldn't think. She hardly even registered that it felt like she was peeing all over herself – that was a normal reaction to surprise, wasn't it? And she had needed to use the bathroom, "I want you to come home with me – we can turn the guest bedroom into a nursery." She grew quiet, her voice taking on its nervous quality, "Quinny?" her pet name, "say something?"

"I think I peed myself, a little bit." She mumbled, her words getting lost in the slurs and chuckles at such an absurd idea. Until a few weeks ago she hadn't gone anywhere except the bathroom since she had been potty trained, but recently she'd barely been making it in time. There had been some less than pleasant accidents and near misses, thankfully all at home. Her mother laughed, still working her hands into her daughter's sore muscles.

"Let's get you to the bathroom," she suggested, standing and offering a hand towards her daughter. Quinn took it and followed, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment as she watched one of the ticket guys catch sight of her puddle and roll his eyes. She walked faster. Just inside the door a cramp pulled in her side – she guessed from walking so fast. The littlest things seemed to set off her overworked body these days. Carol handed her a roll of tissue paper that she had managed to grab and Quinn took it, grabbing at her side with one hand as she wiped away her tears with the other. As she dabbed at her tears and somehow managed to fit into a small the mothers exchanged greetings, Judy filling Carol in on the Fabray family dramas.

Quinn washed her hands and splashed water onto her face as the two talked, feeling refreshed. The two seemed to be getting along, although Quinn knew that Carol didn't have a high opinion of how her mother had bent to Russel's control. Still, she had never heard his disappointment – it had hurt her to her very bones. While other kids had feared the monsters in movies or particularly strict teachers, her controlling demon – the thing that had kept her awake at night - had always been her father, and all of the ways she might disappoint him.

They stepped out into the lobby just as people poured out from the auditorium – there was an intermission for the judges to talk and make their final decisions before everyone would be allowed back in.

"You had me so worried, I couldn't find you!" Finn proclaimed, his words curling up with adrenaline and excitement. He came up from behind, wrapping his arms around her so that his hands rested above hers on either side of her stomach. He kissed her on the cheek, but froze when he caught sight of Judy. Kurt and Burt stepped up, a moment behind Finn.

"Guys, this is my mother, Judy Fabray." Quinn announced, "Mom, this is my boyfriend Finn, Carol's boyfriend Burt, and his son Kurt. Kurt is in Glee club with us."

"A pleasure," Kurt said, briefly taking her hand before letting his rest on Quinn's shoulder. Both the boys knew about her constant soreness – she certainly complained about it enough – so that now, whenever they were near her, it was as if they had been programmed as her personal masseurs.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," Burt told her, shaking her hand and offering her one of his genuine smiles, so different from her stifled and botoxed one. Finn nodded at her briefly – he seemed a little scared.

Before they could say anything more, Mr. Shuester caught up to them, motioning for the boys to come backstage. "You two, Quinn." He shouted as team members began to fall in line behind him. The team was ushered on stage for the awards, a director of the competition ordering them into place. Quinn hid towards the back, Finn's arm pulling her close. Santana, a lot nicer now that she didn't see her as competition for head cheerio, squeezed her arm as the lights came up.

The announcer seemed to drone on forever, their excitement amping up with each dull word. "…and first place is Vocal Adrenaline!" As the winner was announced a deep cramp settled in Quinn's back, a pain that pulled her inward and down. She grabbed on to Finn's shirt, her head against his chest as she tried to breath through the pain. She flashed to the pain she had written off in the bathroom, the dull ache she had had all morning, the cramp she's ignored in her excitement while they were piling onstage. They were contractions. But she had read the books – they might seem painful now but they would be nothing compared to the pain she would experience later. This was just pre-labor, and as painful as it might be, no hospital would accept her as a patient until the contractions were longer, more painful and regular and closer together.

Finn hugged her to him, thinking her reaction was out of disappointment rather than pain. He mumbled words of comfort, and as she did she decided not to tell him just yet, it would only freak him out. Besides, they were all packed, they had read all the books. Everything was ready and it could be hours yet – there was just no need to worry him.

**A/N: **something's round the corner.


	10. Chapter 10

I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

_Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

**CHAPTER TEN**

Quinn had thought that they would leave the competition quickly, but she was just as quickly proven wrong. The entire club hung back in the green room, commiserating their loss. She sat off to the side on the room's wooden table, her legs swinging beneath it as she watched the team fall apart. She felt bad for them, she really did, but between the fact that she hadn't really been a part of the loss and the impending birth of her daughter, it just didn't seem that important in the long run. She hadn't joined Glee to _win_ – that's what Sue's Cheerios were for. Wasn't Glee about coming together to create something bigger than themselves, about 'opening oneself up to joy' or whatever? The club had made her feel like herself without all the makeup and popularity, the tight pony and even tighter uniform – and that was so much more important than any damn trophy. But the rest of the club, it appeared, did not agree.

Rachel was slumped in one of the sagging couches, bawling into Kurt's shoulder about all her _effort_ and how much she cared and how Jesse was just so awful but so, so talented. How she might have even really loved him. Kurt, for his own part, looked like he was battling between composure, his own disappointment, and disgust at the wet spot Rachel's tears were creating on his shirt. Finn sat behind her, leaning against the back of the couch and rubbing his hands across her shoulders gently as he gave Quinn a sympathetic smile that clearly said, _I love you, but she needs me more right now._ Quinn sighed. If only he knew. Mercedes, who sat on Rachel's other side, was commiserating with Tina, who in a rare display of emotion had burst into sobs even harder than Rachel's.

On the opposite couch was Santana, also in tears, Brittany comforting her, and Matt, Mike, and Puckerman, all looking a little shocked and resigned. Artie was helping Clair – a small, scared looking freshman that had been Quinn's replacement – by showing her how to get home on a map that she had placed in his lap.

"Rachel?" everyone looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. Ms. Corchran was standing in the doorway, looking appropriately sorry as she walked into the room. "I really thought you guys were gonna win until they announced it." She confided, coming to stand behind her daughter as Finn stepped back, lifting himself up onto the table beside Quinn. "You were really good. I promise."

"It doesn't matter," Rachel sobbed, "that's it. We didn't win Regionals, which means the club won't continue next year. It's over." There was a hollowness to her voice, as if she could hardly believe this turn of events. With each word everyone's heads seemed to sink lower. Shelby patted her daughter's shoulder and slipped a note into her hand before gliding back out of the room, the intruder on their highly personal club dramatics.

Watching them, Quinn was glad she had decided against adoption for her own daughter. She knew that that had always been part of the deal with Shelby and Rachel – that Shelby had been a surrogate, unallowed to even contact her daughter for years. But no matter what Quinn thought of her situation at the moment, she couldn't imagine not being able to reach out to her little girl if she wanted to. Maybe she would regret keeping their daughter, but she knew that if she gave her up she would regret it more.

As if the baby could read her thoughts, almost instantly she felt an inward tug, deep and consuming. The pain was so immediate and intense that she had no time to react, to think about her surroundings or that she had decided to wait a little while to tell Finn.

She gasped and grabbed his arm in her hands, squeezing her pain into him as she tried to curl into his warm comfort, away from her own painful body.

"Ow, ow, ow." Finn said, trying to peel her hands off of his arms, but her grip was like a vice. She looked up at him, seeing him as though from a great distance. She was almost entirely lost in her world of pain, and it took him only a moment to register what was happening as they locked eyes.

"Shit. Quinn. Um, breath. Right? In, out." She had refused to take lamaze classes, brushing the idea off like it was some kind of voodoo, but he had insisted on watching a couple instructional videos by himself, and as she focused on breathing she was thankful for that. As the pain dimmed she was suddenly aware that all the eyes in the room were locked on her. Rachel, the ever prepared, had leapt into action, calling out orders to different team members. She called for things like towels and for someone to call 9-1-1. She sent Mercedes running for their parents and Mr. Shuester – any adult they could think of.

"Guys, I have plenty of time to make it to the hospital," Quinn explained. Rachel didn't look convinced, but Mercedes put down her phone, exiting the dial screen. "Really, first labors take forever. She probably won't be born until tonight or tomorrow morning." She was surprised by the calm in her voice – if anyone should be freaking out at the moment, it should be her. But, then again, maybe it was her calmness even in stressful moments that had made her such a good Captain. She knew that even if she wasn't calm inside, she could give the outward appearance of serenity and power, a control that convinced almost everyone.

"How far apart are they?" Finn asked, glancing at this watch, "how long do they last?" Quinn glanced at the clock and thought back to being on stage, running through quick calculations in her mind. It had been just eight minutes apart, and lasted almost a whole minute, but by all the books she had read that wasn't nearly as much time between as it should have been. She repeated this out loud to Finn, trying to talk in a whisper so the she wouldn't alarm the rest of the team, but they were listening closely in the otherwise silent room. Finn took a step away from her even as she reached towards him – what was more important than being there to support her right now? But even as he began to pace, muttering things under his breath, the rest of the team converged around her, the new center of activity.

Brittany, Tina, and most of the boys worried aloud, spouting useless advice from television sitcoms that she knew was no real use. Rachel jostled herself in front of them, blocking almost everyone else out of view. She took Quinn's hands and lay them, palms up in her own, rubbing her thumbs in slow, soothing circles. "Ignore them," she advised, her voice low and charged with a reassuring intensity. It was moments like these where Quinn was glad for Rachel's almost-complete grasp on reality. No matter what insanity the brunette could whip up in her head, she was also the best leader in crisis – not that she ever planned on admitting that to Rachel. "Ignore them and just breath, okay? Finn's mom'll be here soon and she'll know what to do, okay? Okay. Just sing to yourself. Block out all these idiots and try to remember the lyrics to…oh I dunno. To _Imagine_, I guess." As Quinn tried to remember how that song even started Rachel turned to the rest of the club and ordered them to back away and give her breathing room. They only ended up moving about a foot away, but every inch seemed to lighten the air a little bit.

"You," Rachel grabbed Kurt, who had been standing off to the side, lost in his own world of worry. That was one thing that made it seem as though Kurt and Finn were really brothers – in times of stress they both shut out the world, they stopped reacting at all and just tried to process what was going on. It was the exact opposite of Rachel and Quinn, who were both reactive and exacting, preferring action to thought. "You're, like, almost like siblings. So just try to keep her calm while I get Finn to stop acting like such a basket case."

Kurt nodded and stood beside Quinn, locking his hand in hers. Other than that one connection they barely touched, but his constant pressure, never changing or shifting, still brought her heartbeat down a couple of paces. Satisfied, Rachel grabbed Finn by the wrist and pulled him just outside of the door to the green room.

"Your girlfriend is in there," she hissed, crossing her arms as Finn looked almost through her, still half lost in his thoughts. "Your girlfriend is in there and she is in _labor_ Finn. Do you even know what that means?" He didn't respond but his eyes began to clear, locking on Rachel's as he seemed to realize their surroundings. "Well?"

"I- I-" he stammered helplessly. After a moment of silence his words seemed to catch up with him in a rush. "There isn't enough time. This isn't how it was planned, she's not _due_ for four more days. We don't have the bags. We're not at the hospital. And she's in pain and I can't help her and just… just everything could go wrong. What if it has two heads? Or three eyes? What if it's a lizard?"

"It's not a _lizard_, Finn, it's a baby and it's not even born yet." Rachel said, a mix of disgust and sympathy edging her words, "if your baby was gonna be a mutant, they would've seen in on the ultrasound by now. And you have _time_, Finn. First babies tend to take forever and we're all here to help. It's going to be just fine, but I need you to promise me something."

"What?" He asked, his eyes jumping for her to Quinn. Rachel slipped her hands into his, pulling his attention on to her. "Until that baby is born, you have to take care of Quinn. I mean, well, you should always take care of her I guess, but I mean forget about your needs. Just forget about everything else and focus on keeping her calm and getting through the contractions, okay? No matter how much pain she's in, you're the person who can calm her the best, so I need you to do that." He nodded and Rachel lifted herself onto her toes to give him a hug. As her arms wrapped around him she heard a high-pitched squeal she knew all too well.

"You bitch!" Quinn cried, pushing herself off the table and towards the two of them. Everyone else was immobilized by surprise – they clearly had not been watching Rachel and Finn's exchange. "I'm in labor and you're _flirting_ with my _boyfrie-_" her words dropped off as she was caught in the grips of a contraction. Finn ran to her, whispering words of encouragement as she tried desperately to catch her breath. As the pain ebbed Mercedes burst into the room followed by a group of adults who quickly gathered around Quinn, effectively blocking Rachel from view.

**A/N: **thanks for the reviews last time, guys! My best? Really? I guess I should write late at night more often!


	11. Chapter 11

I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

_Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust_

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

"So I was thinking Emery might be cute." Kurt piped up. He had thrown his legs over the arm of his chair, an enormous baby book in his lap. "Or Cleopatra." Finn ignored him, his eyes never straying from the door to Quinn's room. As the evening had progressed the number of people in her room had dwindled – first Mrs. Fabray, awkward and clumsy around her daughter, had kept making excuses to leave until Quinn had finally suggested that she hang out in the family lounge. Then Carol had left to clock onto her own nurses' shift on a different floor, although she checked in every now and then. As soon as the doctor had announced it was time to push, Kurt had slipped out the door, followed a few minutes later by Finn. He would give anything to be in there, but after a near-fainting spell the doctor had decided it would be best for him to leave, and Quinn had quietly murmured her agreement.

The only person left in her room was Burt, a steady rock in the confusion and high stress of the past few hours.

"You could call her Cleo," Kurt added, glancing up.

"What?"

"Nothing," Kurt sighed, flipping a page in the book. Finn sighed and stretched, pressing his hands against the arms of his chair and rocking back and forth ever so slightly - anything to get out all of his nervous energy.

He looked up at the sound of a door opening, his eyes lighting on the young nurse sticking her head out the door. She smiled, beckoning them forward. Finn glanced at Judy, asleep on a nearby bench, but decided against waking her.

"I'll be there in a minute," Kurt said as he stuck a bookmark between the pages. He wanted to give the new parents a moment of privacy, although his own excitement was quickly edging out his patience. As Finn stepped in Burt stepped away from Quinn's bed, beaming at the young father as he went to join his own son.

"She did great," he said, closing the door. Quinn blushed as Finn wrapped one arm around her, the other following her arm to wrap around their daughter. She relaxed into him, feeling small in his arms. Not the unimportant kind of small, but the childlike kind, as though she had been born to fit exactly in his embrace, as if in his arms nothing could harm her. Her face was red and blotchy from her efforts, her hair matted and more falling out of her braid than was actually left in it. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep, steadying breath.

"She's beautiful," Finn murmured, his eyes locked on his little girl. The baby was just as red as her mother, her face round as her wails quieted. "Hey baby," he whispered, running his thumb gently along her cheek. "You're beautiful," he added to Quinn who, if it was possible, blushed an even deeper red.

"Do you two have a name in mind?" the doctor asked, setting her stethoscope around her neck. Quinn looked down at her daughter, at the innocent little face. She had supposed that a name would just come to her in this moment; that there would be only one fitting name for their daughter, and she would know it instantly. But nothing came to mind. She shook her head, and the doctor gave her a small smile. "Take your time," she advised them, pulling a couple of folders into her arms, "call if you need anything, alright?"

At her words Quinn felt the familiar grasp of nerves seize her, just like before any of her Cheerio competitions. She wasn't ready – wasn't prepared – to be alone with a newborn. She was just seventeen, she wasn't a mother. Well, okay, technically, biologically, she was a _mother_ but she had no idea how to be one. What if she did something wrong? What if she permanently scarred her little girl?

"You'll be fine," the doctor assured her, seeing the fear in her eyes "just hold her. That's all she needs right now. And I'll wake your mother?" Quinn nodded, not at all reassured. Suddenly the baby seemed to weigh so much more; suddenly she could spot everything that might go wrong.

"I really do love you, you know." Finn said, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed so that he could face her. "And not just because you're the mother of my daughter or any of that."

"But it doesn't hurt," Quinn quipped, trying to lighten the mood. Really, she thought to herself, she'd just had a baby, just spent hours in torturous pain. What she needed now was light, relaxing conversation, not weighty decisions and compliments she didn't know how to return without sounding fake.

She loved Finn, she did. Or, at least, she believed she did. In the past months, she supposed, she had taken him for granted. After all, they lived together now. It was easy to forget that there had been anything before they had fallen asleep side by side each night, awoken curled around each other in the mornings. She hardly even registered when he went out of his way to do something for her anymore – it seemed almost like second nature to him, caring for others. She wished that it was as easy for her.

The silence grew stale and awkward, bitter in her mouth.

"I love you too." She replied, knowing that it was true no matter how forced the words sounded.

**A/N: **Sorry it took me SO long to update.


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